


Adult Relationships

by alannablue



Category: House M.D.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-09 13:13:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4350143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alannablue/pseuds/alannablue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wilson ponders his relationship with House during an unsuccessful blowjob.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adult Relationships

Wilson smiled and looked up when he heard House’s gasp. It wasn’t like House to be so vocal, but Wilson was grateful, pleased, and curious by it nonetheless. House’s head was tilted against the back of the couch, also unlike him. He normally liked to watch Wilson suck him off. Either Wilson or TV, but House was always watching something. If someone else had told him that their lover liked to watch TV while getting head, Wilson would have told that person to pack it up and move on because the guy must obviously be a jerk and not worth the trouble. In his own case, Wilson already knew House was a jerk – but he also knew that House was worth it.

Wilson’s eyebrows furrowed momentarily and he began sucking slower on House, losing his momentum. Nothing Wilson had ever done made House gasp like that, which didn’t bear too much thought on, because House didn’t lose himself in sex like most people. This meant that the gasp and the tilted head were symptoms. He could see the House in his mind sneering at him and pointedly asking: Differential diagnosis, Wilson?

Wilson blinked and studied House’s face. No grimace, no lines of effort. Hands unclenched, laying palms up on couch. And yet – now that Wilson had stilled, both of House’s legs were trembling slightly, and now Wilson knew it wasn’t from his own attempt to prove that capillary action exists. House was in pain and trying to hide it. Doing a bang-up job of hiding it, actually, considering. Wilson looked down at the softening cock in his mouth without surprise.

“Maybe we could continue this in your room? Or not, you know, whatever.” Wilson spoke softly and gently, trying to convey his acceptance of House’s limitations and his tolerance of not getting off himself… again… if that’s how it turned out.

House’s head snapped up and his crystalline eyes blazed with fury. “Oh, spare me, Saint Wilson,” he spat. “I don’t need your pity.”

Wilson backpedaled quickly. One of the problems with getting sexually involved (if you could call it that) with House was that Wilson’s brain got fogged during sex enough so that he forgot the most appropriate way to deal with House in the few minutes following said sexual activity. House knew it and took advantage of it most of the time. “It’s not pity, House. For god’s sake, how many times do I have to tell you that?”

House huffed air out of his nose, lips pressed into a thin line. “Everyone lies, Wilson.”

Wilson rolled his eyes dramatically and sat back on his haunches. “Oh, here we go again.”

House grunted and struggled to get up, banging his shin on the coffee table in the process, falling back onto the couch and hitting his elbow on the arm of the couch before ending up in an angry heap back where he started. Wilson stood and offered an arm to House, who ignored it studiously.

“If I wanted your help, I would have demanded it,” House puffed out, clutching his elbow.

“Don’t be an idiot, House.” Wilson put his hands on his hips, feeling like a parent scolding a petulant child.

“I would **so** storm out of here right now if I could get up.” House pouted, successfully combining both indignation and valley-girl into one expression.

“You live here.” Wilson’s tone was droll. It seemed to Wilson that this was a conversation they’d had many times before, even though he knew it was the first. Hopefully not the last, a large voice in his mind echoed.

House gave up trying to make the pain go away and sat panting with his previous efforts. “Well then, get the fuck out.”

Wilson froze and caught himself doing it in lightning quick time. He smiled grimly at House and bowed. “As you wish, your Highness.” Wilson gathered his coat and shrugged it on by the door, keeping his face carefully hidden from House. It wouldn’t do for House to see him upset by being told to leave.

Wilson mentally berated himself for being like one of those girls in the movies who wait for the boy to stop her before she’s walked out the door. The boy never does, and the girl is always crying in her car in the space of thirty eight seconds, guaranteed. That’s going to be him, Wilson thinks. He’ll be crying in his car in no time.

“Wilson.” House spoke his name quietly, his voice gravelly with pain.

Wilson stopped with his hand on the doorknob, dramatically enough, and turned his head to look at House. House’s head rolled in his direction and he opened one eye. Wilson’s little girl heart pitter-pattered in his chest as he waited for the words every little girl longs to hear from the man she’s giving blowjobs to.

“Get my pills?”

Wilson’s head drops forward involuntarily, and he lets himself react, even though House is watching. Maybe it would be good for House to see that Wilson has feelings, since House doesn’t ever want to talk about it, that’s for sure.

Wilson briefly debates whether he should get House’s pills for him or leave just to spite him. Really, the only debate is how long Wilson will pretend to consider not doing as House requested, and Wilson knows it. He just doesn’t know if House knows it yet. So he hesitates a little longer than he normally would before reaching into House’s jacket and pulling out the orange bottle. Wilson walks slowly toward the couch, only just barely feeling calm enough to gently set the bottle on the back of the couch, just beside House’s head, instead of bashing in his skull with it. Wilson turns immediately and heads for the door again, needing to get out of there and damnit, to have a good cry.

“Wilson.” House’s voice was a little firmer this time, resolute.

Wilson sighs and turns back to House again. It would be unlike House to capitulate this early into the argument, since their usual, unusual method of conflict management was one of them storming out, meeting someplace neutral, fighting some more, fighting at work, getting everyone pissed off at both of them, and then making up by pretending it never happened in the first place. But it wouldn’t be unlike House to want to change things up a little. Wilson mentally prepared himself for hours of bickering with House before being allowed a scant few hours of sleep on the couch as further punishment. After all, what fun is a relationship if you can’t make your partner miserable when they piss you off?

“Water?”

Wilson stared, speechless. It took him a minute to plug House’s word into a context that made sense, mostly because Wilson’s mind was already a million miles away from House’s prior request. Wilson shook his head. This is what House did to him - made him constantly think about House’s motives, intentions, possible meanings, everything, until it made Wilson want to scream. The thing about being involved with someone who won’t talk straightforwardly about anything important is that you have to constantly try to figure out why they’re doing something and somehow be okay with all the possible reasons for their actions, and at the same time accept that you’ll never know what the real reason was. It was maddening.

Wilson laughed out loud. So here he was, trying to figure out how much sleep he’d able to get after fighting with House for the rest of the night, and House was still playing. Pushing him, trying to find where Wilson would break.

House quirked an eyebrow at Wilson.

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” Wilson let his anger show this time as he shook his head again and turned back to the door for the third time.

“Is that a no?” House called from the couch. Wilson paused briefly and glared at House as he stepped into the hall and closed the door behind him.


End file.
